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Octopus and Seaweed — The Sea That Taught Me to Cook

Hana turns one on January 15. Two weeks. Two weeks until the doljanchi. Two weeks until the doljabi. Two weeks until the little girl who was a poppy seed and then a lemon and then a bell pepper and then a person becomes a one-year-old person who walks and talks and eats Korean food with a silver spoon engraved with her name in Hangul. Two weeks.

The Wallingford kitchen is done. Brian called on Monday: "Come see it." James and I drove over with Hana after work. Brian opened the door. The kitchen was — I am going to use a word I don't use often — perfect. The Carrara marble gleamed. The six-burner Bluestar was installed, matte black, gorgeous. The fermenting station was in the corner — three onggi slots with the temperature sensor and the drainage tray, exactly as designed. The open shelving was mounted above the counter, waiting for cookbooks. The island was large enough for four people to stand around. The window above the sink framed the maple tree in the backyard. The kitchen was everything I had imagined and more than I had hoped for and I stood in it and I cried because the kitchen was the physical manifestation of everything I have been building for nine years — from the Capitol Hill condo and its empty refrigerator to this room, this beautiful room, with its marble that rhymes with Jisoo's marble and its range that will cook Hana's meals for the next twenty years.

I took a photo and sent it to Jisoo. She replied within minutes: "The marble. It is the same marble. You built our kitchen in Seattle." She said "our kitchen." Not "your kitchen." Our kitchen. The kitchen is Jisoo's too. The kitchen belongs to every woman who has fed me: Jisoo, Karen, Grace, Ming. The kitchen belongs to the grandmothers. The kitchen was built for them.

The recipe this week is the first meal I will cook in the Wallingford kitchen, which I am planning with the obsessiveness of a woman who has been designing this kitchen for six months. The first meal will be doenjang jjigae. Of course it will be doenjang jjigae. The stew that cracked me open in college. The stew I have made every week for seven years. The stew that will christen the new kitchen, the new stove, the new onggi pots. Soybean paste. Tofu. Zucchini. Onion. Garlic. Anchovy stock. Gochugaru. I will make it in the new kitchen and the stew will be the same and the kitchen will be new and the combination of same and new is the whole story of my life. Same stew. New kitchen. Same Stephanie. New everything.

I had planned to write the doenjang jjigae recipe here — I had the steps drafted in my head before the kitchen was even finished — but the night Brian opened that door and I stood in front of the Bluestar and cried, what I actually craved first was something from the sea, something that tasted like the grandmothers before the grandmothers, like the Korean coast before it became Seattle and Capitol Hill and a condo with an empty refrigerator. This octopus and seaweed dish is that. It is the dish I make when I need to remember where the food comes from before it becomes my food. The doenjang jjigae will christen the stove on a Tuesday night with Hana in her high chair. This is the dish that christens me.

Octopus and Seaweed

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb baby octopus, cleaned and rinsed
  • 1 oz dried wakame seaweed
  • 1 oz dried kelp (dashima), rinsed
  • 4 cups water
  • 3 tablespoons soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon sesame oil
  • 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon gochugaru (Korean red pepper flakes)
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced
  • 1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds
  • Salt to taste

Instructions

  1. Rehydrate the seaweed. Place the dried wakame and kelp in a large bowl of cold water and soak for 15 minutes. Drain, gently squeeze out excess water, and cut into bite-sized pieces. Set aside.
  2. Make the broth. Bring 4 cups of water to a gentle boil in a medium pot. Add the soaked kelp pieces and simmer for 10 minutes to build a light dashi base. Remove and discard kelp, or slice and reserve for serving.
  3. Blanch the octopus. Add the cleaned baby octopus to the simmering broth. Cook for 8–10 minutes until just tender and curled. Do not overcook. Remove with a slotted spoon and let cool slightly, then halve or quarter the larger pieces.
  4. Build the seasoning. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, gochugaru, garlic, and ginger until combined.
  5. Combine and dress. In a large serving bowl, toss the blanched octopus and rehydrated wakame with the seasoning mixture. Stir gently to coat everything evenly.
  6. Finish and serve. Top with sliced green onions and toasted sesame seeds. Taste and adjust salt. Serve warm or at room temperature alongside steamed white rice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 820mg

Stephanie Park
About the cook who shared this
Stephanie Park
Week 456 of Stephanie’s 30-year story · Seattle, Washington
Stephanie is a software engineer in Seattle, a new mom, and a Korean-American adoptee who spent twenty-five years not knowing where she came from. She was adopted as an infant by a white family in Bellevue who loved her completely and never cooked Korean food. At twenty-eight, she found her birth mother in Busan — and then she found herself in a kitchen, crying over her first homemade kimchi jjigae, because some things your body remembers even when your mind doesn't.

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